


Jade On Bronze

by unbrokengibberish



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-11
Updated: 2014-04-11
Packaged: 2018-01-18 23:09:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1446244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unbrokengibberish/pseuds/unbrokengibberish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lydia has been going to the same coffee shop since she moved to New York, but when she walks in one afternoon for lunch a new barista more than catches her eye. (This summary sucks, sorry!)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jade On Bronze

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time writing anything like this so sorry if it is awful. I wanted to give it a try.
> 
> I'm on tumblr at sarcasmandbanshees

Lydia Martin likes the sound of the chime on the door when she walks into the quaint, coffee shop down the street from her office. She likes that every time she walks in the door she is personally greeted by the little ding ding that rings as she pushes against the door, using it to balance herself in her five-inch stilettos. She likes that it informs the baristas that she is here. She likes that it draws their attention to her.

Obviously, Lydia likes more about this coffee shop than just the chime on the door. She likes that it isn’t a Starbucks for one, because there are a least 20 of those in a five-mile radius of her office. She also likes that it is close enough to work that she can stop in here a few times a day, because her job requires more than one caffeine jolt throughout the day. 

Her favorite thing about the coffee shop though is that once you step through the chiming door, you forget that you are in a big city. It feels like you have stepped into a small town and it makes her melt. She misses small towns. She misses Beacon Hills and this place makes her feel almost like she is at home. 

The chime rings as she pushes her way through the door on her lunch break and she smiles. The small sound picking her up from the day she’d been having. Sometimes she really hated her job. She makes her way through the door, lifting her head to look around the place that is her home away from home and her breath catches a little in her throat. 

Standing behind the counter is a barista she has never seen before. He is cleaning the counter off and she is momentarily distracted by the largeness of his hands. I wonder what else those could do? She thinks to herself as a blush creeps up her face. Her gaze slowly trails up his arms (which wow where did this guy come from) to his face. 

His face is dotted with about the most adorable moles she has ever seen in her life. His nose turns up a little at the end, which she all the sudden finds to be about the cutest thing she’s ever seen. His cheekbones seem to have been crafted from marble. His hair is the color of dark chocolate and Lydia is suddenly craving a mocha. 

The barista hears the chime of the door and his eyes drift over to hers. He starts a little, his whiskey colored eyes locking on hers and she has never seen a more perfect human being in her life, and then smiles at her. And her heart momentarily stops. She sends a silent prayer up to whatever being placed this god-like boy in her favorite place in the city and then he is talking to her. 

“Hello!” He greets her more enthusiastically then she has ever been greeted in her life. “How is your day going?” 

“Hi,” she has to clear her throat a little when she realizes how dry her mouth has become. “It’s going pretty good. At least it hasn’t started raining yet. I’m just praying I can make it back to my office before the storm hits.” She has no idea where any of that came from. She normally just orders politely. She hardly ever makes small talk with anyone. 

“I love the rain,” the barista remarks as he glances out the front window and she has to bite her lip to keep the smile from spreading across her face. He shakes his head a little. “Sorry, what can I get you?” 

Your number, she thinks. “A large, non-fat, dark chocolate mocha, and an orange-cranberry scone, please,” she replies instead. 

He smiles at her as he punches a few buttons on the cash register. He writes her order on a cup and sets it aside to deal with momentarily. Her cup is the only one in line and he is the only one working. There are only two other people in the coffee shop, which makes her sad because she can’t imagine this place going out of business. 

“That will be $5.60,” he says as he looks up from the cash register and their eyes lock again. Jade on bronze. She has to shake her head a little again to clear her head as she reaches into her purse and hands him her debit card. He slides a receipt and a pen across the counter for her to sign and when she goes to reach for it the tips of their fingers brush a little and Lydia feels an actual spark shoot up her arm. 

She momentarily wonders if it has really been that long since she’s been laid that the brush of a fingertip can set her off or if this man is really just that amazing. She elegantly signs her name at the bottom of the receipt and hands it back to him. She sees a little bit of color staining his cheeks and thinks to herself that maybe it’s not just her feeling this thing between them. 

“Thank you, uh…” 

“Lydia,” she supplies her name at his pause. 

“Thank you, Lydia. I’ll have your mocha up in just a minute. Oh, wait,” he pulls out a pastry bag and moves over to the display case, bagging up her scone. “Here you are.” 

“Thank you… Stiles?” She questions reading his nametag. 

“It’s a nickname. I have a weird name,” he blushes and she melts just a little bit more as she smiles at him. She takes her scone and makes her way over to the couch placed against the far wall facing out the front window. It’s her favorite seat in the shop and normally it’s taken, but today is just her lucky day apparently. 

Lydia sets down her briefcase and falls down onto the couch making an almost inaudible moan at the way it swallows her up. If only she could take of these damned heels, then she’d be content with everything. She pulls the scone out of its bag and pinches a piece off. She places the bite on her tongue and moans a little more audibly this time. When did the scones get this good? She takes another bite and then the scone is halfway gone when she realizes that Stiles is carrying her drink over to her. 

“Here you are,” he says as he places the mocha on the table in front of her. 

She covers her mouth a little with her hand and speaks while trying to finish chewing, “You didn’t have to…” she swallows, “I would’ve got it myself.” 

“It’s slow in here and you looked like you were really enjoying that scone,” he runs his hand threw his hair and she hadn’t noticed how soft it looked before. 

She blushes not sure if it is because he was watching her or because he caught her enjoying the pastry a little too much. “I don’t remember the scones being this good before,” she says as she goes to take a sip of her drink and has to hold back the third moan threatening to escape her lips. God, she really needed to get laid. 

“Really?” He has a pleased look on his face. “I actually made those this morning.” He is rubbing the back of his neck and she realizes that he has the most enticing mannerisms. 

“You made these?” She’s impressed, but not surprised because her dream guy can bake obviously. 

“Yeah, I’m actually studying at the culinary institute. This is just a temp job to help pay for it,” he smiles down at her and wow this man is perfect. 

“Wow, that’s really cool.” Smooth, Lydia, really smooth. “I wish I was creative like that.” What was it about him that was making her share all of her thoughts today? 

“What do you do?” He asks leaning his leg against the coffee table a little and she supposes it would be inappropriate for her to ask him to sit with her. 

“I’m a financial analyst at Morgan Stanley, actually,” she admits taking a sip of her mocha and what the hell has this guy done to her that she is just telling him where she works? 

“Wow, that’s…wow, that’s really impressive,” he seems actually impressed and not just the kind of impressed that guys who are trying to get into her pants pretend to be. 

“Yeah, I love math,” she smiles simply amazed at how easy it is to talk to this guy she’s just met. 

“Huh, I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone who loved math that much,” he smirks at her a little and if she thought his smile was going to melt her, his smirk is going to make her come right here. 

She starts to say something else, when the chime that just moments ago she loved so much rings, and a customer walks in. 

“I should go,” he says slowly as he stands up straighter. 

“Yeah, of course. I’ll see you later?” And why did she say that? “I normally come in here a few times a day,” she tries to save it. 

“Great, I’ll see you later then,” he smiles at her and my god what is going on? 

Stiles goes back behind the counter and the shop starts to get busier so he never has a chance to come back and talk to her. She checks her watch and realizes that she needs to be back at work in ten minutes. She gets up quickly and puts her jacket on, grabbing her drink, and smiling in his direction as the chime announces her leaving the shop. 

She couldn’t wait until she was done with work. 

 

At 8 o’clock, Lydia walks out of the automatic doors of the Morgan Stanley building utterly exhausted. She loved math, but even she thought there was such thing as too much math. 

She doubted that Stiles was still at the coffee shop and she really didn’t want to caffeinate this late, because she really just wanted to crawl into bed and sleep, but the coffee shop was on her way home, so she thought she’d check it out. 

She passes the shop, looking in through the big front wall of windows, and doesn’t see Stiles. She decides she’ll just go home and see if he is back tomorrow. And she’ll make sure she gets his schedule or number or something, because damn does she want to see that boy again. 

Lydia walks the ten blocks to her apartment building, where the doorman lets her in. She climbs onto the elevator, stumbles ungracefully down her hallway, opens her door, and immediately kicks off her heels. She shrinks about five-inches. She sighs contently as she sets her briefcase on the table in her entryway. She shrugs out of her jacket, which she hangs neatly on her coat rack, and then makes her way to her kitchen. 

She pulls out a bottle of wine and opens it to let it breathe, while she pulls together something for dinner. She decides to make an omelet, because she isn’t that hungry and she needs to use up some of the stuff in her fridge like the eggs, feta, spinach, and peppers. 

She pours herself a glass of wine when her omelet is cooked and carries her food into her living room. She turns on F.R.I.E.N.D.S. reruns and watches as she eats her dinner. 

When she finishes eating and realizes how tired she is, she turns of the television and puts her dishes in the sink – she’ll deal with those later – and makes her way back to her bedroom. She decides to take a shower, because she has been in her office since about 8 o’clock this morning and sometimes she just needs to wash that place away. 

She strips out of her skirt and blouse, turns on the water, and steps into the intoxicating spray. She lets the water soak her strawberry blonde hair to a dark brownish red color and lathers lavender scented body wash all over her self. 

As her hands trail up and down her body, she is reminded of Stiles’s hands and the way she had been so mesmerized by them. She starts to think about the spark that flooded her body when they touched briefly and how his smile lit up his entire face and how his smirk did something to her stomach. She feels herself growing wet at just the mere thought of him, and she lets her hands trail farther down her front until she reaches the place where her legs meet. She imagines his hands, his large hands, as she parts her folds and quickly finds her clit. It takes her almost no time at all until her breathing becomes heavy and a few strokes later with his name on her tongue, she explodes. 

Lydia thinks about feeling guilty that she just used some guy she barely knows to help her to one of the best orgasms she’s had in forever, but as she steps out of the shower and prepares for bed all she can really think about is seeing him tomorrow and how much she really needs his number. 

Lydia climbs into her king size bed letting her cotton sheets and fluffy comforter swallow her up as she falls asleep to thoughts of long fingers and crooked smiles and adorable moles. 

 

The chime goes off as Lydia walks into the coffee shop the next morning and she smiles when she sees Stiles behind the counter. It is busier than it was when she was here yesterday, and she has to wait in line, but she has no problem with that when it means she can watch him more. She realizes with a swell of her heart how spazzy his movements are. His long arms flail around as he gets the orders for the people in front of her. 

Finally, she steps up to the counter and he smiles wide, immediately blushing at his own eagerness. She blushes too remembering her thoughts and actions from the previous night. 

“Hey, you’re back,” he beams at her apparently embracing his eagerness to see her. “I thought you were gonna stop by again yesterday? But you were probably busy so I’m gonna like shut up now.” 

“I got swamped at work and didn’t get off until after eight and when I walked by you weren’t here, so I just went home,” she blushes harder because why is she talking so much? 

“Oh, yeah. I only work from five a.m. to one. I take afternoon classes. Probably should’ve mentioned that,” he looks down and she sees a fresh red staining his cheeks. She imagines all the shades of red she could make him turn. 

“I should’ve asked,” she supplies when the silence gets a little awkward. 

He realizes that people are lining up behind her and laughs a little, “What can I get you today?” 

“I’ll take a cappuccino and whatever you made this morning,” his eyes twinkle a little as she speaks and it emboldens her, “and also, your number…if you ya know want to that is.” Smooth Lydia. 

He smirks at her as he pulls out a pastry bag, writes what she assumes is his number on it, and fills it with the most delicious smelling cherry Danish she has ever witnessed. He hands her the bag with a quirk of his eyebrow, “Your coffee will be right out.” 

She has to bite her lip to keep the smile from spreading across her whole face. She takes the bag making sure her fingers brush his and goes to stand on the other side of the counter, where the prepared drinks are set. 

Five minutes later, Stiles hands her drink to her. Their fingers brush again and damn, she needs him like now. 

When she leaves the coffee shop, she looks down at her cup, which says in the same handwriting on her pastry bag, “Call me later? I don’t have a late class tonight…” 

Oh, that boy was going to get so lucky, she thought to herself with an extra bounce in her step. 

 

About halfway through her day, Lydia realizes that she isn’t going to be able to get away from the office. She is swamped with work and will be lucky to get away by eight again. She decides to text Stiles, because really she has been looking for an excuse to talk to him all day. 

Lydia: Hey, Stiles. Um, this is Lydia. I’m super busy today and won’t be able to get away for lunch, but tomorrow is my day off and I was thinking if you’re up for it we could do something later tonight. 

Way to not sound desperate, Lydia thinks as she hits send, and waits for what has to be the longest five minutes of her life. 

Stiles: Hi! Yeah I’m free all night; so just let me know when you get off. 

Stiles: Get off work, I mean. 

Lydia bites her lip as a smirk pulls at the corner of her mouth. 

Lydia: I’ll call you later then. 

 

The rest of the day goes painfully slow as Lydia tries to finish up her charts and presentation preparation for Monday. She is just finishing when her phone starts to ring. 

“Hello?” 

“Hey, Lydia, um it’s Stiles. Sorry for calling, but it was getting late and I was wondering if you weren’t up for hanging out later, ‘cause I totally would understand…. Or just hey,” she can hear the self-loathing in his voice and can’t help but laugh. 

“I actually just got finished here. Sorry, I meant to call you earlier, but if you’re still down… to hang out I mean then I’m also down to hang out,” she could feel herself blush. Why did this boy make her feel like she was in high school again? 

“Yeah,” she hears him swallow, “Um, down… to hang out that is.” 

“So I’m exhausted and was just thinking about ordering some takeout and crashing on my couch, but you’re welcome to join me?” She wonders is she’s being too presumptuous, but decides that she doesn’t care because she wants this boy now. 

“Yeah, that sounds great,” he exhales as if he had been waiting to hear those words forever. “Um where do you live? I can pick up food and meet you there.” 

She knew she liked this boy for more than his looks. She gives him her address and tells him she’ll see him there. 

 

20 minutes later, Lydia has changed into what could only be considered “come and get it” pajamas. She’s wearing a lace tank top and silk pajama bottoms when a knock sounds at her door. 

She pulls the door open to the tall, lanky boy holding a bag of what smells like the best Chinese food ever. “Swanky place you got here,” he says as he steps through the door not bothering to be invited in. He sets the bag on the counter and then turns around and stops seeing her for the first time. She sees his Adam’s apple bob a little as he swallows hard and she thinks to herself that that is the exact reaction that she wanted. 

“Thanks,” she says feeling a little shy all of the sudden. “What did you get?” She points at the food and he starts listing off everything. She grabs a carton of beef broccoli and makes her way over to her couch. “Coming?” She asks over her shoulder. 

He joins her on the couch in record time holding out chopsticks to her as she sits down. 

“So…” he says as he opens his box of sesame chicken and starts to pick at it. “Where are you from?” She likes that he feels like he needs to make small talk. It makes her like him more. 

“A small town in Northern California. It’s called Beacon Hills, you’ve probably never heard of it,” she laughs a little as she takes a bite of broccoli and god she didn’t realize how hungry she was. 

He nearly drops his chopstick. “Seriously?” She nods. “I was born in Beacon Hills.” 

Her eyes widen. “Really? I think I would have remembered you. It’s not a very big town.” 

“My family moved to L.A. when I was four, because my mom got really sick and there was better treatment in the big city,” he says realizing that he is probably saying too much. “My dad was actually a cop there for a while.” 

“Oh…” She doesn’t know what to say. She wants to ask what happened to his mom and did he ever want to become a cop and about a million other questions, but she feels like that would be weird. She barely knows him. “What made you decide to move to New York?” She asks starting off lighter. 

“I tried to go into the family business, but training to be on the LAPD is a lot harder than I thought, so I decided I’d go the culinary route and I kinda wanted to get out of there. After my mom died it didn’t really feel like home any more,” he mumbles a little at the end and she wonders what he’s thinking. “God, I just laid like way too much on you. I mean I barely know you. I’m sorry.” 

“No, no. I like that you feel comfortable enough with me to tell me stuff like that,” she finishes eating and sets her box of food on the table inching a little closer to him on the couch. He sets his box next to hers and covers her hand, which has found it’s way to his thigh. 

“I do. I don’t know what it is, but you do something to me,” he says as his thumb starts tracing small circles on top of her hand. 

“Stiles?” Her voice is very breathy now. 

“Hmm?” He is looking at their hands. 

“Kiss me?” She sees him swallow, but he doesn’t have to be told twice and before she knows it his lips have crashed into hers. 

The kiss starts off slow at first just getting used to the feel of each other, but pretty soon his tongue is tracing the seam of her lips and gasping she parts her lips to grant him entrance to her mouth. His tongue strokes against hers and she moans. Their kiss goes on, swirling tongues and nips of lips, until they pull away for breath and Stiles kisses his way across her jaw down her throat and she is thankful she doesn’t have a roommate, because this is going to get loud. He kisses further down her neck and then he stops pulling away. Her hands have found the top button of his plaid, but she stops her movements. 

“What?” She breathes out. Her body hums and she has never been this worked up from just a kiss. 

“Are you sure? I mean we barely know each other,” he blushes and she thinks it is the most adorable thing he has done yet.  
“I don’t make decisions I’m not sure about,” she whispers as she runs her hands up his chests and fists them into his shirt. She tugs a little giving him the chance to resist and leave now, but he doesn’t he comes willingly. 

Her hands return to the buttons of his shirt and she makes quick work of unfastening them and pushing the plaid off of his shoulders. Her hands run down the front of his chest as she admires the firmness beneath the plain white shirt he wears. Her hands find the hem of his shirt and she gently yanks upwards. He gets the hint and peels the shirt over his head. 

She stares at the impressive width of his shoulders and the firmness of his stomach. He blushes as she continues to stare, but he gets impatient and drags his large hands slowly down her arms until his hands find the hem of her shirt and he doesn’t even have to tug at it before she is stripping out of it. 

He stares in reverence at the skimpy, lacey black bra that she put on as more of a show than actual support. She smiles at him until his hands make their way from her hips up to the her chest and tease the undersides of her breast. She gasps as his thumb drags slowly over her lace, clad nipple, and her gasp turns into a full out moan as his large hands cup both of her breasts kneading them a little with his expert hand. She gets frustrated easily when the friction isn’t enough and reaches behind her back to unhook her bra. As she slides it off her shoulders, it tumbles between them and he gapes at her. 

All the sudden feeling embarrassed, she starts to cross her arms, but he catches them. 

“Don’t,” he says with a gruff voice as he leans in and kisses her hard. His hands find their way back to her breasts and she moans louder as his nimble fingers work her nipples to taut peaks. She whimpers a little when he starts kissing his way back down her neck, and then he takes one nipple between his perfect lips licking and sucking until she is squirming beneath him. Her hands find purchase in his hair as she guides him to her other breast. When he has given equal attention to both breasts, he starts to map his way down her stomach with his mouth. She can feel the arousal dripping out of her as she shoves on his shoulder a little. 

He looks up at her worried he’s done something wrong. 

“Bedroom,” is all she manages to get up before he has lifted her up and is carrying her back to her bedroom. He tosses her gently onto the bed and then climbs on top of her. His hands travel to the tie at the waist of her pajamas as hers find his belt buckle making quick work of it as she tugs it off and tosses it aside quickly. He unties her pajamas and slowly pushes them past her hips revealing her matching black lace underwear. He tosses the pants somewhere behind him.

He licks his lips and she clenches her thighs. He lowers himself back to her as he kisses her hard. Her hands find the button of his jeans as she unclasps it and drags down his zipper. He gasps when her hand brushes against him and she bites her lip at the sound. She pushes his jeans past his hips and he kicks them off pushing her farther back on the bed as he climbs more fully on top of her. 

His leg brushes against her and the friction is just enough to make her moan. He smirks at her as he hooks his fingers in the hem of her panties and pulls them down slowly. She lifts her hips to help him get rid of the offending article of clothing. She grabs the hem of his underwear and drags them down his hips and he kicks those off too. Her eyebrow quirks a little as he springs free and then she swallows thickly, her mouth suddenly feeling dry. 

He bites his lip trying to stifle a moan as he drags his hand down her stomach. When his fingers brush against her clit, she practically jumps off the bed she is so worked up. 

“Condom.” 

He nods hastily as he quickly gets off the bed and riffles through his pockets. She misses his warmth, but she admires the view. 0.7 seconds later he is crawling back on top of her as he holds out the condom. She takes it from him, rips the package open with her teeth, and rolls the condom down his length. He braces himself against the bed to stop from collapsing at the feel of her dainty hands on him. 

He gives her a meaningful look to which she nods hastily and then he is positioning himself at her entrance. He slowly pushes in and she can’t help the sound that escapes her. 

“Fuck,” he murmurs when he is fully sheathed within her. He starts a rhythm that she soon picks up and they are nothing but tangled, sweaty, panting limbs moving against each other. 

“So close,” she gasps as he hits her in just the right way. She fists her hands in his hair and his rhythm starts to become hastier. 

“Me too,” he groans as he pushes into her again. He pulls out one more time and as he pushes in she feels the coil snap and she is falling, a metallic taste in the back of her mouth as she shouts his name. 

His orgasm hits him moments later and he collapses on top of her. 

When their breathing starts to return to normal, he rolls off of her not wanting to crush her. He gets up to dispose of the condom and then crawls back onto the bed. She rolls over to him as she pulls a blanket over them. 

She falls asleep thoroughly exhausted and more than satisfied with her head on his chest, her leg between his, and his arms around her. 

 

When she wakes up in the morning, the bed is cold. She jolts up from the bed and starts to panic thinking that maybe he just used her for sex, when her hand falls on a piece of paper. 

Ran out to get breakfast. Didn’t want to wake you. Be back soon. –Stiles 

She smiles to herself as she collapses back onto her bed, breathing in the scent of him on her sheets as she waits for him to return to her.


End file.
